The First Rook
by Closet Scrawler
Summary: Spock loses a fateful game of chess. -Not slash-


******Historian's Note: **Takes place shortly after 'Where No Man Has Gone Before'.

******Author's Note: **Another cut scene from the Transitions project.

******=(^)= The First Rook =(^)=**

James T. Kirk, Captain of the Starship Enterprise - not just one of only twelve such entities, but none less than the flagship, the pride and joy of Starfleet, the ship that every star-struck cadet saw in his or her dreams - sat alone at a table and contemplated a chessboard. The officer's lounge bustled around him, crew coming and going, chattering in the noisy way that humans generally did.

It made him wonder why Spock came here.

Kirk picked up a rook, examining it like it was something he had never seen before. Light refracted through the sculpted glass, painting a rainbow pattern on the top of the table. The rainbow disappeared as a shadow fell over him.

"Greetings, Captain," his science officer said.

"Hello, Mister Spock," Kirk replied, squinting upwards. From this position, the lighting was behind Spock and the dark, angular planes of his face looked even more pronounced and shadowed than usual. Kirk had been brooding over this chessboard for over an hour, and was probably putting off so many negative vibrations that none of the crew had dared to intrude.

He was not surprised that Spock was the only man brave enough to approach.

The Vulcan shifted position very slightly and Kirk realized his scrutiny was making the officer uncomfortable. Kirk looked away, and placed the rook back onto its tile. He gestured at the table and looked back up. "Would you be interested in finishing the game?"

Spock raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. Both of them knew the game was going to end in Kirk's favor. The match had been all but conceded before they'd been called to the bridge. Spock glanced from his captain to the board, hesitated for a moment, then took the seat across the table.

Kirk followed him with his eyes, a tiny smile trying to push its way past the aching grief and guilt lodged in his chest as Spock studied the board. He sat with the same stillness that Sam used to, back when they'd played their father's favorite game as boys.

Spock reminded him so much of Sam, it was uncanny. Sam had gotten their mother's gift for science, but hadn't inherited any of their father's natural charm. Sam was five years older than him, but a very young Jim Kirk had taken it upon himself to defend him from the jibes of bullies who found the socially awkward boy an easy target. It hadn't taken long for Riverside to learn that you did not pick on George Samuel Kirk.

And just like with Sam, the crew of the Enterprise didn't take Spock seriously.

Kirk had seen that very early on, and it had set off all the same protective instincts. He couldn't help it. The man was absolutely brilliant, but he didn't make any effort at all to defend himself. It was like he considered it his duty to just stand there and stoically take insults. Spock was second officer, third in command of the ship, but his suggestions were constantly shot down and people did not treat him with the respect due his rank.

Kirk had instantly put a stop to that. He knew in his gut that Spock had some serious potential for command. People mistook Spock's logic as unfeeling, self-righteous arrogance, but Kirk had discovered that underneath that cold mask Spock was actually exceptionally perceptive. Over the past few months, he'd begun to carefully coax his science officer into voicing his opinion more often. He found Spock's advice to be solid, and had begun to lean on it more and more. Spock's logic balanced him, in a way.

Gary… Gary had been the other side of the pendulum. The loss was more than just that of a friend… Kirk felt unbalanced. He sighed, and the sound was sad even to his own ears.

Spock glanced up. His dark eyes were unreadable, but a slight shifting of his shoulders gave away his sympathy. "Would you prefer to start a new game, sir?" he asked quietly.

Kirk swallowed a sudden lump in his throat and shook his head. "No… I want to finish this one." This game had stood, untouched, in the officer's lounge of the Enterprise for five days while life moved on around it because the owner of the board could not bring himself to even look at it.

No other soul on the ship dared touch it.

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement, and folded his hands serenely in his lap. "As you wish, Captain. Your move."

Kirk stared at the board. Spock had insisted the captain play white, and there were only a handful of the cut crystal peices remaining. The game had started off poorly for the captain, who had not been giving it his full attention. He'd been so interested in that damn energy barrier, shimmering on the viewscreen. The edge of their little corner of the galaxy…

They never did find out what was beyond it. So much had been lost to it, and for nothing.

It was out of his hands now, at any rate. He'd given his report, recommended that they leave that place alone. What Starfleet chose to do was up to them. It had been two hundred years since the last ship passed this way. Perhaps in another two hundred they'd try again. Plenty of places to explore in the meanwhile.

Without Gary.

Kirk picked up the rook again. He held it between thumb and forefinger, slowly rolling it back and forth. The memory came back, sharp and vivid. The last few minutes before they had crossed the barrier. The last few minutes that his freind was human.

A feeble smile tugged at his mouth as he remembered arriving on the bridge. Gary had asked about this very game, and Kirk had been so pleased to have bested the science officer. They hadn't had time to finish the match, but they'd both known it was over. Spock had seemed quite irritated, for an unemotional Vulcan.

"Captain," Spock began softly, but fell silent when Kirk looked at him.

"My apologies, Spock… my mind seems to be wandering." Kirk returned the rook, and moved his queen to the third level.

"Perhaps another time would be better," Spock offered tactfully, even as he tilted his head slightly at the board. His brows furrowed just a fraction, and he glanced from the piece to the captain. It was not the move he had expected.

"No, if it's all right with you, I'd like to finish it. I just need to… think," Kirk said. "For which I apologize."

"It is illogical to apologize. There have been several occasions in which our game has lasted longer than one off duty shift," Spock reminded him evenly.

Kirk frowned at the board. "This one has lasted too long."

Spock did not reply, but continued to contemplate the board silently. Kirk knew that Spock would never admit to understanding the human need to complete this game. The crew of the Enterprise thought Spock was devoid of emotion - which was indeed the impression the Vulcan made every effort to give - but Kirk knew better. It was one of the few things Kirk _knew_ he knew about the man. Spock was just very subtle about it. You had to pay attention.

He watched as Spock moved a bishop and took the white queen. Spock set it down carefully on the table next to the other captured pieces that had been there most of the week. Kirk's eye settled on the rook in their ranks and he reached for it. He propped his elbow on the table and held the glass game piece up at eye level to look at it.

"Spock," he said slowly, "Do you know the history of this game?"

"I have researched it," Spock answered. "There is extensive information available, some dating so far into the past as to be considered mythological in nature."

"Two rooks are considered more powerful than the queen," Kirk said. His voice was quiet, almost absentminded. Spock nodded, and waited for his captain to elaborate. "Spock," Kirk said, shifting position slightly. "I'd like to ask you a question."

Spock raised an eyebrow. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair. In a human it might have been a defensive gesture, but for Spock it was simply one of patience.

Kirk didn't speak for a long time however, just stared at the captured rook as he organized his thoughts. He sighed. "What do you think about instinct, Mister Spock?" he finally asked.

A small crease appeared between Spock's slanted eyebrows. The apparent sudden change of conversation confused him. "Instinct, sir?"

Kirk nodded.

"In… what context?"

Kirk waved a hand vaguely. "In any – no," he amended mid-thought, "in decision making."

Spock took a slow breath. "I do not believe I am qualified to give you an answer, sir," he said.

Kirk smiled. "Qualified or not, I'd like your opinion."

Spock did not exactly fidget, but Kirk could tell he was uncomfortable. "I base my decisions on logic, and can offer no advice on making a decision by instinct."

Kirk nodded slowly. "But you know that I make at least some decisions based on instinct and intuition. And yet you follow my command. Why?"

Spock didn't answer for a long moment. Kirk studied the game piece in his hand while he waited. Light refracted through the glass and he knew what the answer was going to be.

"It has been proven to me, repeatedly," Spock finally said, "that even though some decisions made by humans have no basis on fact or logic that I can perceive, they are nonetheless correct. Perhaps some probability can be attributed to random chance, but the fact remains that some beings do this consistently. You are one of them."

Kirk nodded. "Intuition is a tool. It would be illogical to ignore such a tool simply because we – as yet – lack the technology to measure or analyze it. As we once lacked the technology to measure extra sensory perception."

Spock blinked. "Yes," he said. Kirk wasn't able to read whatever was in the man's voice. "I find the phenomena… fascinating."

Kirk moved his last remaining pawn, setting it on a tile in the row of squares directly in front of Spock. He swapped it out for the rook he was holding, giving Spock's raised eyebrow a mysterious little smile. The queen would have been the logical choice to reclaim. "Starfleet has many science vessels – ships that do more research and development than the Enterprise."

Spock tensed, trying to follow the latest abrupt turn in topic. "Yes."

"But Starfleet goes…" Kirk waved a hand, "___out there_. The mission of this ship is to go where ___no _man has gone before. I can't even describe how it feels to stand on a planet that no one in the entire Federation has set foot on before." Kirk watched Spock as he said this. The Vulcan had relaxed. Apparently Kirk had not steered the discussion where he had thought it might go. "To be the first to run a tricorder over a brand new life form, or scan the spectrum of an ancient star whose light has been seen by us for millennia? What better place than the bridge of a starship?"

Spock looked away from the captain and to the chessboard. He moved his queen and captured Kirk's bishop. "I can think of no better place," he said quietly.

Kirk looked at the board without seeing it. He took a long moment to choose his words very carefully. "But, to get to the bridge, one needs command training. You hold the rank of Lieutenant Commander, Mister Spock."

"A mere formality. I have no desire for command." The reply came easily, no hesitation, no thought given to it. It was simply a fact. But Kirk did not miss the wary look his science officer cast him. The Vulcan was far too perceptive not to understand where this conversation was now headed.

"I know." Kirk moved a knight to capture Spock's queen, leaving the peice stranded by itself on one entire level of the game with only the black king for company. "You are obviously quite content where you are in sciences."

"Yes, sir," Spock said, just a trace of relief detectable in his voice. Kirk assumed some one had tried to pry him away from the computers more than once in the past. Spock captured Kirk's other rook, and folded his hands on top of the table.

Kirk took a deep breath. "The Enterprise is in need of a First Officer."

Spock looked down at his hands.

Kirk stared at Spock and let the silence stretch until the Vulcan looked up at him. "I trust my instincts, and every instinct I have tells me that you have good instincts. Maybe they come from that human side you don't like to admit to, but they ___are _there. And I trust your instincts, even if you don't."

Spock still remained silent, so Kirk decided to be blunt. "I want you, Spock, as First Officer of the Enterprise."

Spock blinked, anxiety clearly written on his face to anyone who knew how to see it. Of all the arguments Kirk was prepared for Spock to offer, the words Spock actually said caught him by surprise. "I tried to convince you to kill Commander Mitchell. Your friend. Barring that, I would have done it myself. I do not expect you to desire to work with me more than necessary – despite whatever methods you may have used to divine that you must do so."

"Spock…" Kirk paused, trying to think of the right words to explain something that he knew in his gut. "You knew, without a doubt, that Gary was turning into something that would ultimately turn on us. You knew it Spock, from the very beginning. Yes, there were the tapes from the Valient, yes there was Sulu's math, but you ___knew _even before then."

Spock said nothing. His clasped hands tightened on each other. He could offer no logic to explain his actions, but he also could not deny that the captain spoke correctly.

"I knew it too," Kirk continued softly. "Every instinct I have was screaming to get him off the ship. But I wouldn't admit it. I… couldn't." He took a steadying breath. "You did your duty as science officer, Spock, and told me your opinion. But then you went beyond the call of duty, because the captain of the ship was emotionaly compromised and no one else would admit it. I was too close to the problem and you stood up to me."

Something flickered in Spock's eyes, and Kirk realized that act had been harder for the Vulcan than he had thought. Kirk remembered his own harsh words of denial, and felt a pang of guilt. That sting only encouraged him, however, and he plowed onward. Kirk knew he needed some one who wouldn't question every decision he made, but who also wouldn't back down easily.

"When you brought down that phaser rifle I was furious – but I was angry at myself, not at you. You just happened to get the brunt end of it. I was leaving a trail of precautions, but really, I was just putting off what I already knew needed to be done. And I almost waited too long. In fact, I did wait too long. Kelso died because of me," he said bitterly and looked away. "If you hadn't brought the phaser…" his voice trailed off. He would have to live with that for the rest of his life.

"If you had not delayed," Spock said slowly, carefully, "Doctor Dehner would have acquired her powers after having seen the fate of Commander Mitchell, but without having seen how it ultimately changed him. It is likely she would have been able to hide the symptoms to avoid the same fate, until it would have been too late to reach her. Or stop her."

Kirk blinked. He hadn't considered that. "I… thank you, Spock." It did nothing to ease his responsibility for Kelso's death, or the fact that his closest friend had died at his own hands, but somehow it did make him feel better.

Spock did not say that one did not thank logic.

Kirk saw with a sudden clarity that his own reluctance, combined with Spock's determination, had resulted in uncanny timing. On the heels of that thought came the realization that this was not the first time it had happened since he'd met the Vulcan. They balanced each other out to achieve impossible results.

His resolve hardened. He ___had _to make this work.

Spock seemed to sense his sudden intensity of purpose and responded by becoming absolutely still. He didn't want to pressure Spock into accepting the post out of some fear of losing Kirk's friendship if he declined… for that was what the captain suspected was going through the Vulcan's mind. Kirk couldn't call him on that, however, or he'd just retreat behind the cold walls of Non-Emotion. He needed logical reasons.

"Consider my reasons," Kirk said in a brisk, businesslike tone. He knitted his hands atop the table and leaned towards Spock earnestly. "I know you have no desire for command, but you passed all your command training courses with flying colors, Spock. I know it was only in order to get a science post on the bridge, but the simple fact of the matter is Starfleet Command doesn't pass out top scores to just anyone. You are the best person qualified for the job."

Spock's face did not appear to alter, but Kirk somehow got the impression that he was summoning a reply. This argument had been used against him, and he knew how to refute it – but Kirk wasn't about to give him the chance.

"I'll make you a deal," Kirk said quietly. He rubbed his hands together and leveled a look of such complete conviction at Spock that the man actually leaned back a fraction. "Starfleet is underestimating you. I imagine that, at times, you must be incredibly bored."

Spock blinked. Kirk crushed the smile that tried to betray him, and baited the trap. "Not only are you the first Vulcan serving on a human ship, you are the ___only _Vulcan. These ships," Kirk waved a hand to indicate not only the Enterprise, but all Starships in general, "are crewed almost entirely by humans. They are run on human standards. Three shifts, eight hours each. Sixteen hours of inactive duty a day. I know you only sleep maybe four hours a day, and then only if you want to. I've seen you go a week with straight duty, fascinated over something or another. I know for a fact that you spend most of your off duty shift in the labs."

Kirk turned to the game, watching Spock out of the corner of his eye. He was almost positive now that the Vulcan was not breathing. Kirk reached for the chessboard, and picked up the sparkling glass rook. He placed it gently on the next tier, placing Spock's king in check mate. Spock was oblivious to the game now, staring at Kirk with an utterly blank expression. Kirk dropped the other shoe. "If you want, Spock, I see no reason why you can't be Senior Science Officer as well as First Officer."

Kirk leaned back in his seat and watched Spock. He imagined he could see the cogs turning, the ramifications lining up one after the other. It was a very powerful combination. Traditionally, the first officer held the secondary role of helm or navigation; stations that could be fairly easily filled should the first officer be called to replace the captain. All bridge personnel were trained to operate every station, but the science station was by far the most complex, and the senior science officer oversaw the sciences of the ship as a whole, much like the chief of engineering oversaw various departments. The combined duties of senior science officer and first officer were… great.

What Kirk was offering, frankly, was not humanly possible. Nor would it be considered tactically sound, for the loss of one individual would be a double blow to the running of the ship.

"It would not be… permitted," Spock said at last.

Kirk struggled to hide a smile, because that did not translate as a ___no_.

"You think not?" Kirk asked, and watched a dark eyebrow climb upwards. "I'm not well known for my sense of conformity, Spock. It gets me in trouble a lot, but it also gets things done. Starfleet might grumble and reprimand me, but they also gave me the Enterprise. I have every confidence that, if you want this, if you accept my offer, Starfleet will bow to the inevitable. You are ___not _human, and you should not be limited in that capacity. There will be others after you. Be the first."

Spock stared at him.

Kirk crossed his arms, and shrugged. He leaned back in his chair with a careful air of nonchalance. "You can even try it out first. Consider it a challenge. If you decide, for whatever reason, that you want to go back to science officer, you may do so. No questions asked. I," and Kirk thumped his own chest, "will make it known that you gallantly stepped up to the plate of double duty while the Captain of the Enterprise procrastinated in filling the vacancy - which even has the virtue of being true, since that is exactly what I have been doing. And everyone knows it."

Spock stared at him for a long moment, then turned to the chessboard. Then, almost hesitantly, he reached out and long fingers carefully tipped the black king onto its side in defeat with a soft clink of glass on glass. He looked at Kirk, eyes dark with an emotion that Kirk did not yet recognize but would come to depend on.

Kirk sat in his seat, every muscle tense. He had never thought he believed in destiny, but years later he would swear that he felt the future of the universe holding its collective breath as Spock uttered the next words.

"I accept your challenge."

"You won't regret it," Kirk said, grinning wolfishly. Hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. "It'll be …___fun_."


End file.
